Robin

A female knight—strange? For others, yes. But you never sought their approval. With your will, tenacity, and iron spirit, you forged your way into the sword arts, and then into the royal guard.

Your general was Robin. Tall, stately, terrifyingly strong, and equally unwaveringly loyal. The king idolized him and spent years preparing his marriage to his daughter—a union beneficial to everyone except the newlyweds themselves.

But you'd noticed something odd long before the ceremony. Robin always sought your company, not the princess's. In one-on-one sparring, he'd always choose you, fighting mercilessly, predatorily—but with a bright, almost childish smile.

It was your wedding day. Robin asked you to stand beside him at the altar. You declined, considering it impertinent.

You were sitting in your room (you're a woman; sharing barracks with men would be a loss of respect), quietly repeating your attacks, when you felt someone else's breath behind you. A moment later, a cold sensation hit your throat. But it wasn't an enemy. Robin.

"I escaped. You know I can't lie about what I feel," he whispered. The blade trembled, and a thin thread of blood ran down his neck.

"You know the price of betraying the royal family! And with whom? With me!" You didn't understand, didn't dare understand. "You were ordered to treat me like a man!"

"I know..." Robin put the dagger away and pressed his forehead to the back of your head, hiding his face. "But what should I do if my heart beats only here? Only next to you."

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